Meet Me In The Woods

Todd & Neil

Todd

Finally, finally everything had returned to normal. The Poets were sitting in the Indian Cave, holding the first meeting since the night of the play. The world had snapped back into place the moment Neil had enthusiastically recited their introduction, and the evening had continued to be an especially cheerful one. Charlie had insisted on performing yet another version of poetrusic and had recruited Knox to play the bongos in the background. Meeks and Pitts had performed another nonsenical poem together, turning it into a little chant and adding an improntu dance routine. To their relief, Knox hadn't read any overly sappy love poems for Chris yet, which probably had something to do with Charlie's comment from the day before. He had recited a droll little verse from memory, though, and it was especially funny because it sounded like something out of a mom poetry booklet. Even Cameron had supplied something entertaining that evening, electing to go for a particularly morbid Shelley poem and falling off his elevated rock seat halfway through. 

Of course Neil had put on a one - man - Shakespeare - show, performing particularly funny scenes from A Midsummernight's Dream with great enthusiasm and Puck's crown on his head. 

"All right, who's up next?", Charlie called, drumming along on the bongos. "Cameron? You wanna take the fall again?" 

"Actually", Todd took a deep breath. "I'd like to read something." He ducked his head at the surprised faces of his friends. "It's a poem by Emily Dickinson. It's called Ressurection. I, uh, I guess I just kind of liked it." 

"Go for it, Toddy!" 

His face burning, Todd scrambled to his feet and fished the scrap of paper out of the pocket of his coat. Stuttering slightly, he began to read: 

"T'was- t'was a long parting, but the- the time 
For interview had come; 
Before the judgement seat of God, 
The last and second time 

These fleshless lovers met, 
A heaven in a gaze. 
A heaven of heavens, the privilege 
Of one another's eyes. 

No lifetime set on them, 
Apparelled as the new 
Unborn, except they had beheld, 
Born everlasting now. 

Was bridal e'er like this? 
A paradise, the host,
And cherubim and seraphim 
The most familiar guest." 

Todd emerged from his little isolated world of words a little breathless, and was met with a goup of beaming poets. 

"Well done, Todd!" 

"Attaboy, Anderson." 

"That's why you're the poet here." 

Blushing furiously, Todd ducked back into his seat next to Neil and smiled shyly at his friends. Neil wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Todd returned his friend's - boyfriend's? lovestruck golden retriever smile with one of his own. 

Knox went up next, performing an ode to spaghetti he had written himself, and Todd let himself get lost in the familiaity of the meeting. It was a cold night, but Neil's arm was still around his shoulders, warming him up and making him drowsy. Unconsciously, he found himself leaning further into Neil's side as his eyelids began to droop. As his vision began to blur, Todd's head dropped against something warm and solid. A familiar hand brushed along his temple and carded through his hair, and Todd's eyes drifted shut. 

Neil

Todd's head grew heavy on Neil's shoulder and Neil could practically feel himself melting into a puddle on the floor. As gently as possible, he adjusted the sleeping boy on his shoulder, his stomach performing flic-flacs. It was a sense of euphoria that hadn't left him since the previous evening, ever since Todd had confessed he liked him back, since Todd had allowed him to kiss him, since he had stolen a quick peck from his boyfriend that morning. 

"Awww, look at ickle Toddy", Charlie cooed. The other poets turned around, smiling at the sickeningly sweet scene. "Out like a light. When are you gonna confess, Perry?" 

"Charlie -", Neil hissed wide-eyed. 

"Oh, we know, Neil", Meeks interrupted him, speaking softly in order not to wake Todd. "Have for a while now. You're not exactly sublte, you know?" 

Neil's looked from one of his friends to the other in confusion. "You - since when?" 

Pitts sniggered. "Since forever. Do you even realise how you look at him?" 

Carefully and fully aware he was on unfamiliar terrain right now, Neil studied the other Poets' faces. To his relief, he found no hint of disapproval in them - even Cameron was smiling. "And you don't mind?" 

"Never", Knox proclaimed earnestly. 

"Well, Cameron needed some convincing", Charlie grimaced, glaring at the ginger boy. 

"Hey, it's not my fault!", Cameron hissed. "I've only ever been told it's bad news. I don't mind, Neil, I truly don't. Charlie's being an idiot." 

Neil relaxed. "Thanks guys." 

"Back to the topic at hand", Charlie demanded, glaring daggers at his roommate. "When are you gonna tell him? I'm absolutely sure he feels the same." 

He stopped short at Neil's smirk. 

"No way." 

"Yes way." 

"When?" 

"Yesterday evening." 

"How'd it go?" Charlie was waiting with bated breath for Neil's response, but his best friend's dreamy smile told him everything he needed to know and a gargantuan smirk spread across his face. 

"Skip to the dirty details." 

Neil could tell his face was probably turning a very impressive shade of red, but he still somehow managed to roll his eyes at Charlie. "There are no dirty details, Dalton. He told me he likes me back. We kissed. That's it." 

Charlie leaned back against the stone wall, disappointment etched into every inch of his face, but he knew from the way Neil's face had closed up that he was fighting a losing battle. 

"Oh, fine." Suddenly, he lit up. "Hey, that means you get to carry Sleeping Beauty here back to school all alone." 

"Screw you, Dalton." 

I believe that "Screw you, Dalton" is the perfect ending to this fic. You are very welcome, nonexistent readers. I'm also not going to change the name "Indian Cave" because a) it's a name and b) we're in the fifties. 

Also, Emily Dickinson is my absolute favourite poet. She's brilliant. 

Thanks for reading! 

Moony <3